Learning the Lesson
by Lady-Pyrien
Summary: prize fic. Dark!fic. Pirate!Spain. Romano has always been a bit mean and disrespectful, but one day, he takes the insults a bit too far and Spain snaps.
1. Chapter 1

_prize fic for Mochikyan for being reviewer 45~! Mochi asked for a dark!fic, which features tsundere Romano taking his hurtful words a step too far, so this is going to feature many things that might make you cringe or uncomfortable. Some torture, smut and submission ... so um ... I hope you enjoy Mochi~! _

_Also, Airis Hanamori asked for a pirate!spain story, I'm working on that one now~~ so a few new oneshots will be uploaded soon enough lol _

_having troubles, hope it's up now ... still having troubles ... this is the sixth time i've uploaded and replaced this chapter. Fanfiction is being really weird with me. I hope it's up this time, because I'm going to be p********d if it's not.  
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><p><em><strong>Learning The Lesson<strong>_

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><p>Romano glared at Spain as the sun kissed man walked over with the small tray. There were several tomatoes on it, as well as some thing for them to drink. Spain was excited to see Romano for the first time in nearly half a century.<p>

He plopped down on the sofa next to the southern half of Italy and smiled, "So how have you been, mi tomate?"

"Been better. These the best tomatoes you've grown this season?" he growled in response, picking one of them up and squeezing it's firm flesh.

Spain chuckled, "Those are perfect tomatoes~!" he countered.

Silence overcame the two as Romano sunk his teeth into the tomato's red skin, letting the translucent red juices drip down his chin. The Spaniard grinned, "You're making a mess, Roma~!" a napkin in his hands was used to wipe away the juices, causing Romano to slap away his hand and glare.

"Don't touch me, tomato bastard …" he growled, finishing off the first of many of the fruits. By the time he'd had his fill, night was settling in. The sun was more than halfway down the horizon, splashing the skies with pinks and oranges that made Spain's heart flutter in joy. He thoroughly enjoyed his sunsets, and believed them to be one of the most gorgeous in the world, especially when it was setting over his tomato fields with the waves of the sea far behind him, off the coast of his Barcelona home.

The Spanish country's personification had had this home for a very, very long time. Longer than he actually cared to remember. That part of his life was partially black in his mind. He didn't know why, but all he remembered was his Romano and taking care of him. Then darkness, then Romano slowly growing up amidst the dark memories. Finally … one day … every thing he remembered was clear again, no darkness, no blank spots … only his Romano~

He smiled, "Isn't the sunset gorgeous, Roma?" Spain asked, turning to face the Italian. Romano looked out to the balcony his former boss stood on and glared, "Nothing special. The one in Roma is gorgeous. This is crap." he crossed his arms.

Spain's smile faltered lightly, but it remained. His Romano had always been a tad disrespectful and mean, but he never truly meant anything he said … right? At least … that's what Spain had told himself ever since that night so long ago when he'd defended the Italian from Turkey and one of his former queens.

He loved the southern half so much more than he could ever express in words or actions, but he could try. Romano meant everything to him. Romano was the only thing he could really remember from his past. So many decades were completely lost and of course, he remembered bits and pieces here and there, mostly blood red scenes … fire … water … the sound of canons in the distance and cries of war and pain and blood lust. Sometimes it sounded like his voice, but when he woke up, the memory would fade and he'd forget what he saw.

Really, the only clue as to who he was then was locked away in another room. One room, which he did not own a key to … well … not one that he knew of. There had also been no way to break down the door, so he decided whatever was behind that door was meant to stay there and stay there it shall. It was like a ghost of his past, a scary unknown ghost that no one, not even France or Prussia would tell him about.

In fact, they froze up with slight fear in their eyes when he ever mentioned or asked about it. It was probably why he had a deep seeded hatred for a certain Brit he knew. Who knew? The only thing that matter to Spain anymore had finally come for another visit after so many years apart.

"So, my Roma~?" Spain smiled brightly, closing the doors to the balcony, "What would you like to do now?"

Romano played with a bright red fruit, not really listening to Spain, nor thinking of anything he wanted to do, "I don't know, jerk … I only came to visit, because my stupid brother forced me to. You can think of something."

The Italian eyed Spain while he put on his thinking face, something Romano blushed at thinking was kind of cute. This only made him scowl more and contemplate throwing the tomato at the man for making him feel confused and angry at everything. So he did.

The tomato smacked Spain in the arm and tumbled to the floor, leaving behind a small wet trail and a few scattered droplets where the skin of the fruit had split and leaked all over the shirt Antonio wore and the floor and coffee table.

"Aw … what was that for, Roma?" Spain frowned, pulling at the tomato stain on his shirt.

"For being a stupid prick who didn't plan ahead for my visit!" Romano quickly yelled, leaning back against the arm of the sofa. His arms folded across his chest and he made his best effort for an intimidating scowl.

Spain pressed his lips into a firm line. He wondered if Romano had always been this mean or if he'd just gotten more bold with his actions. He'd been hit before, but by smaller, less damaging hands. And he'd been hit with tomatoes before, but never had they hit so hard. He brushed it off and slid into the seat next to Romano, slipping his arms around the younger nation's waist and pulled him close.

"Oh, Roma~! I only found out today that you were even coming here! We can watch the stars or walk through the tomatoes, oh! Or we can read a book and curl up together on the floor with the candles as our only light~! Doesn't that sound fun?"

"Fun? That sound like a fucking date, jerk!" Romano blushed darkly and tried to bury his face in the arm of the couch, only to be too late.

Spain laughed lightly and pinched Romano's cheek, "Aw~ Roma looks just like a cute little tomat-"

He was shoved back roughly and Romano rubbed his cheeks, trying to rid himself of the embarrassing blood flow. Spain just chuckled and rubbed his shoulder, gently.

They finally settled into a light conversation about how Italy was doing and how Spain was doing, the actual landmasses and eventually Romano grew tired of it. He stood up and walked around the den for a moment, looking for something.

"What are you looking for, Roma~?" the Spaniard asked, walking up to Romano. The Italian glared, "Just wondering if something is still hear from when I was a kid. I doubt it, since you always bring strange bitches and bastards into your house. One of them was bound to stick around enough to clean, right?"

Spain frowned. On occasion, he could be sexually active, but he hadn't known his ex-ward knew about them. Plus, he had toned it down quite a bit since the last time he'd seen his once small little Roma~.

"Aha!" he shouted, leaning under a chair, pulling out an old wooden ship toy. It was handmade and the paint was really faded and peeled away in most parts.

"What's that?" Spain inquired.

Romano glared, "One of the last toys you'd brought me on your long ass journeys. One day you went fucking ballistic and started throwing shit around, most of them being some of my toys. I hid this one before you ushered me into my room and I was forced to stay there."

Spain frowned. He did not remember this, nor the wooden ship, with a little painted figure lying on the deck.

"You were a fucking jerk that day. God, you came inside the house after what seemed like years away from home and then everything changed. After that night, your crazy ass didn't travel as much." Spain let his brow furrow, still not recalling anything like that.

"I hated you for it. Those toys were the only things you ever brought back for me on those stupids trips. And I never pulled this one out of its hiding spot because I thought your dumb ass would destroy it, too." he glared, running his fingers over the ancient toy.

The Spaniard reached out to touch it, only to have it ripped away from his grasp, "Like hell I'm going to fucking let you touch it now, bastard! I'll kill you first!" he snapped, holding it out of the way. He began walking passed Spain, but tripped, sending the toy ship to the floor, breaking it into four or five pieces. Romano and Spain both stared in horror.

"You … you fucking bastard!" Romano glared, pushing himself off the ground, and turning to meet Spain's gaze, "You did that on purpose!"

"Did what, Roma? I didn't-"

Romano jabbed his finger into Spain's chest roughly, "You tripped me to break it! I have been wanting that thing for centuries and you just had to finish it off! You have to be the most stupid man I know!"

"That's a little harsh …" Spain murmured, looking from Romano to the broken ship. He hadn't tripped Romano …

"I don't give a flying fuck! I hate your fucking guts, you stupid-" jab.

"Roma …"

"-fucking-" another jab.

"Romano …" Spain bit his lip, his heart racing and his head began hurting.

"-sadistic-" extra hard jab.

"Romano." he gripped his head and his face clenched in his pain.

"-bastard! You know what? Fuck you. Fuck off. I hope you fucking rot it hell for everything you put me through! I wish you would just drop dead!" he turned to storm out, but a hand grabbed his arm, roughly. He glared and turned to see Spain with a straight face. His eyes were no longer that bright emerald color that lit up the room, but rather a sickly acidic color that stuck fear into Romano's heart.

He trembled lightly, "Let go of me, you sadistic fuck!"

"Sadistic? Why, Romano, I have no idea what you're talking about~" Spain smirked, tilting his head to the side. Romano frowned, an ice cold feeling leaking into his body, running like ice through his veins.

Spain's grip tightened on his arm, causing Romano to yelp in pain, "Let go now!" he hit the Spaniard's hand and tried to pry he vice grip off. However Spain held tight and dragged him to a large painting that had always been in the far end on the den. He grabbed it with his free hand and let it drop to the floor, the frame breaking into several long shards of sharp wood.

On the back of the painting, located under the frame, there was an old tarnished key. Spain yanked Romano around like a rag doll and pushed him to his knees, "Grab it for me, but do not throw it or your fate will be twice as bad."

Romano, shaking, grabbed the key and a flash of rebellion flew through his mind, but the look in Spain's eyes made him think otherwise. He handed the older nation the key and frowned, realizing he had seen this man before. This was the same Spain that had come home that night and had broken all of his toys and taken down many paintings and other things, that all disappeared over night. That was the first, and he'd hoped the last, time he would ever see his former caretaker that angry and vicious.

He was dragged down the hall to a familiar closed door that had not been opened in so long. The key slid in and Spain smirked, jiggling it until the lock turned, "You say I was sadistic? I'll show you sadistic~ You need to learn how to behave, Romano. Such a shame, too … I hate punishing you, but perhaps I was too lenient to begin with and that's why you're so mean and disrespectful. You said some mean things to me and now you have to pay for it. Hopefully, you'll have learned your lesson."

Now the Italian was shaking violently in fear. He was sure his arm was bruised from the way Spain held hip tightly and jerked him around. They went through the door way and Spain coughed lightly at the dust. He lit a torch on the wall, giving the room a very dim glow. He shut and locked the door again. Turning back, he grabbed the torch and used it to light the others in to room.

For the first time in centuries, Romano saw old paintings, now dusty and ruined, of the sea and some of Spain in a brilliant red uniform with his hat. His hair was longer and tied back and his eyes were the same acid color Romano saw now. He bit his lip and looked at the rest of the room, his heart racing in pure fear. So many things he couldn't even begin to describe were shoved in the room.

"I still can't believe I locked myself and this away like that … pity … so many things covered in dust … not that it matters anymore. Once your done with your punishment, you'll see just why everyone feared me on the ocean and sea."

"What the hell bastard? This isn't fucking funny!" Romano hissed, trying one more time to pry the man's hand from his arm. This time, Spain let go, knowing he had the only key to get in or out of the room. As expected, Romano rushed to the door and tried to open it, but it was all in vain. He even tried throwing his weight against it, but cried out in pain when all he did was manage to hurt his shoulder.

"There's only one way out, brat. Now get over here before I get angry … well … angrier than I already am about your off handed comment about my intelligence. For the tomato. For the names. For blaming poor Spain for everything wrong in your pathetic life."

Romano turned and spat at Spain, "Go to hell!"

Spain looked down at his already tomato stained shirt, that now sported Italian spit and sighed, "This shirt cost him a lot, you know?" he pulled it off, revealing the faintly scarred flesh of Antonio's back and abdomen. He opened a chest and grinned, pulling out a very old, off white, slightly bloodstained shirt. He slipped it on and smiled, "Ah~ it feels good to wear this again! Now, you're rubbing some already raw nerves, boy. Remove your shirt this instant." he used his own discarded shirt to dust a few things off until he located what he wanted. He picked it up and saw Romano had yet to remove the button up shirt.

Spain tsked and walked up quickly before slapping Romano across the face. It wasn't very hard, but enough to sting and show how serious Spain was. Romano glared, but still he refused, earning another, slightly harder slap across the other cheek. Spain's hand ran fluidly over the now reddened cheeks, wiping away the tears that were forming in those defiant eyes, "I hate ruining such a cute face, but you're going to have to learn to stop being such a fucking prick to your Boss."

"You're not my fucking b-"

SLAP!

Romano yelped in pain. It was much harder than the first two. He trembled in fear, but removed his shirt and tossed it to the floor.

"Good~ now, it may be a little messy in here, but we'll fix that, won't we. No more 'I don't know's' out of you. I want you to clean this space right here up." he pointed to the wall with his small black, leather stick.

The Italian cursed Spain and walked to the wall and began moving painting, broken toys and various other things that had been tossed into the room. When he finished, sweat poured down his face from the poor air circulation in the room and the fire torches.

"Now wh-"

Slap! It wasn't as hard as the last one, but Romano's cheeks were already red and sore and swelling from the first several.

"You will not speak unless spoken to. This is something most children learn at a very young age, but you, my boy, seemed to ignore."

"Fuck y-"

Slap! Romano cried out in pain and gripped his cheek. It stung and was hot to the touch. He reared back his fist and slammed it into Spain's face. The man stumbled back and hissed, spitting up a bit of blood onto the wooden floor. Anger coursed through his eyes and he snapped his little stick across Romano's chest. A loud, resounding crack echoed in the room followed by a cry of pain from the Italian.

He, too, stumbled back and bumped into the wall.

"You insolent brat! You will learn respect and you will learn to watch that tongue!" Spain rushed forward and grabbed Romano, turning him around, pushing him up against the wall before lifting his arms and tying them up into the strong frame. His pants were stripped of him too, before his legs tied down.

"This little frame ensures that you do not pull any shit like that again."

Romano felt the tears streaming down his hot cheeks. He shook violently and nodded, biting his tongue to keep the retort in.

"Good. Now let your punishment begin." he reared back his arm as hit Romano in the back with the crop, making Romano scream out in pain, more tears streaming his face. Snap after snap, crack after crack, his back hurt so badly. Not only his back suffered. Occasionally, if he said something or cursed Spain, he was hit on the hip or thigh.

Finally, it came to an end and Romano prayed that he could just leave, that it was all over and that he could run home and never look back on this.

He'd loved Spain … he'd loved him so much … he just … didn't know how to show the man. He was afraid of his heart being ripped out and stomped on. Romano didn't want that … but here he was, being betrayed by the very man he loved.

"Are you done?" Romano whispered, regretting the words immediately after they rolled off his tongue. He wished he could just suck them back in and hope Spain had not heard them.

"Ahahaha … Romano … do you know what I did to men like you on my ship when they back talked or smarted off? Do you know what I did to the crew members who thought they could stand up to me? Do you?" Romano winced, feeling Spain's finger run down the welts on his back, pressing lightly into a particularly painful one.

"N-no …" he muttered.

"Oh, my Romano … I forgot to mention. You will refer to me as Boss or Sir. If not … well … you should know by now the consequence."

"No, Boss …" he muttered again, trying to will the pain to stop or the feeling to come back in his hands. At the very least, he tried to will away the tears.

Spain chuckled again, "Good boy~ now, as I was saying, those who defied me in such awful ways like yours, they were slowly tortured, sometimes in front of the rest of the crew as a warning. I might have tied them to the mast and starved them … taken my favorite jeweled knife and slowly dragged it across their skin, using the flesh as bait for the sharks, which I would force them to … play with …

"I might even have taken them to my private quarters and had my way with them until they couldn't walk, them I'd execute them on the deck. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

Romano bit his lip. He couldn't die, he was a nation. So all he could think of was being kept in the small room and be starved. Then his mind drifted to the last bit. While he couldn't really be killed via cuts, stabs, bullets, that shit hurt like hell and still had to heal properly. However, he could still be torn limb from limb by a hungry shark and then he would officially die, leaving his brother as the whole of Italy.

He shuddered to think of the idea. Then again … Spain also said he had his way with his victims … did that mean? Part of Romano cringed in fear, while another half became excited at the notion of sleeping with Spain … however … he wouldn't necessarily be sleeping with him … just … being taken.

"Well?" Spain asked, his patience wearing thin and his hand aching to continue teaching Romano a lesson.

"No … Boss …" he added quickly, lest he forget and end up in more agonizing pain.

Spain smiled and kicked the frame, turning it around so that Romano was facing Spain now, "You like? I created it like that myself so that I could have easy access to view the pained faces my enemies made when I tortured them. As for you, I don't wish you dead or severely injured, my pet, my little tomato~"

Romano's heart fluttered with the hope that Spain was returning to normal but that was dashed the moment Spain grinned, with those acid eyes glowing under the light of the torches.

"Oh no … You see … Spain has always loved you. You were his … our favorite … but you see, as of late, he's become more desperate for more time with you and he'd hoped this would have been the perfect chance to confess that his love had grown for you and he wanted to all to himself.

"However, you're a spoiled little brat who shows no care for his feelings and how much he loves you. You set him off, love. You found the key to release me~

"Do you know exactly who I am, Romano?" Spain asked, lifted Romano's face to get a good look at his bruised cheeks.

"S-Spain? Boss." he whispered.

"Well, yes … I am España, but you see, I'm more than that~! I was the great Spanish empire, conquistador and pirate and all those wonderful things~ You never truly saw me because of how much you meant, despite your coldness. I never wanted you to know what kind of monster I was and am, but you drew me out again~ I couldn't take what I'd become. I'd been through what I'd put so many other through with that damn English prick and I didn't want it. So I locked all my stuff away and willed my mind to only remember the good, only the good. I forgot about my pirate days, about ravaging beauties like yourself on a daily basis, and became a simple, happy man. Until you ruined that, of course~ I still love and adore you, but I'm going to have to tame you."

He let Romano's head fall forward again as he turned the frame back around. Romano cried and shook harder in fear when he felt the cold, sharp blade press into his side and run, broad side down, over his back. He hissed as the cold metal cooled over his welts and lesions and the knife finally came to rest on his lower back. Spain, in one expert flick, sliced through the thin fabric of his underwear and let the partially torn fabric fall down around his left ankle.

Romano held back the louder sobs as Spain's blade still traveled back up Romano's back, over the rest of the swollen flesh. He smiled and tossed the blade aside and let his hands run over the cuts and welts, "Ah … such a beautiful sight~ a wonderful feeling this is, as well. The hot, burning flesh beneath my touch … your blood covering my hands … oh, Romano …"

His hands wrapped around the front to run his fingers over the Italian's nipples, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from him. Spain chuckled and let his hands travel further south to wrap his hand around Romano's member, slowly raising it up.

"Such a good boy …" Spain groaned, his own erection pressing tightly in his own pants. He wanted the southern half of Italy and he wanted him now, but he also wanted to make Romano beg for it. Romano hissed and moaned softly with each stroke. Spain caressed the sensitive member and nipped the back of the younger nation's neck.

"F-fuck … S-Spain!" he groaned, feeling his stomach pooling with heat. Sweat began forming on his back and chest as he thrust forward into Spain's movement. He no longer cared of the stinging he felt in his back. Just as he was about to feel sweet release, Spain let his stroking halt.

Romano whimpered, "What the hell, bast-Boss?" he bit his tongue, hoping Spain would just let that one slip. His mind was still foggy.

Spain kissed his neck and nipped his ear, making the younger nation moan, "Do you want more, my little tomato?"

Both mind and body screamed yes and he let his head nod, "Yes … B-Boss …" he thrust into Spain's hand again, but whimpered again when Spain let him go completely to lift his fingers to Romano's mouth, "Suck." he commanded.

The Italian took the digits into his mouth. He ran his tongue over them and coated them well, knowing that would make this more comfortable for him. The fingers were removed from his mouth and Spain's hand caressed Romano's opening, circling it slightly before he inserted the first finger.

A moan escaped Romano as Spain massaged his member with the free hand. He slipped the next finger in and continued stretching the Italian nation, preparing him for what was to come next. Spain could tell his next finger was bringing pain to his tomato, but he couldn't bring himself to care as his erection throbbed, waiting for the moment that was fast approaching. He curled his fingers slightly, bringing a loud moan from his Romano.

"There it is~" Spain whispered into Romano's ear. He removed the fingers and pulled his member out, "Do you want me now, Roma~?"

Romano nodded vigorously, his mind and body on fire, "P-please … fuck … just … make it better …"

"What do you say?" he positioned himself at Romano's slick entrance, aching to bury himself deep within him.

"Please, Boss … f-fuck me …"

Spain grinned and grabbed Romano's curl, making him moan loudly as he pushed inside Romano with one thrust, stretching him to his limit. Tears welled up in Romano's eyes, but the pleasure coursing through him because of the curl play quickly took his mind from things. Spain let go of the curl to grab Romano's hips and begin thrusting into him.

"Mm … my little tomato has been such a good boy, keeping himself chaste and pure~" he pressed a soft kiss into Romano's neck and decided to reward his Romano by letting his hand caress him and letting him feel pleasure, too. Romano shivered beneath his touch, but not out of fear this time. He grinned as Romano let his head fall back and he began to let out guttural, throaty moans.

Spain grinned again, aiming himself in a different spot, hitting his Romano's special spot, making Romano cry out.

"Oh … fuck … Spagna!" Romano cried out, his pain momentarily forgotten. Spain sighed and let himself relax a bit more so that he could feel his Romano clench around him and hungrily suck him back in when he pulled out.

He thrust a few more times before Romano moaned out again and spilled his seed all over the floor. Spain gasped and felt his own fire burn as the pressure released. He slid himself out Romano and grinned, wiping himself off with Romano's discarded shirt. He thoroughly enjoyed the sight of his essence mixing with Romano's blood, creating a swirling mixture of white, red and pink.

Romano shuddered, still reeling from his orgasm. The Spaniard grinned and turned Romano's frame around again, cringing at the creaking sound it made. It would need to be oiled.

Their eyes locked and Spain crushed his lips to Romano's tightly in a bruising kiss, "Have you learned your lesson?"

"Y-yes … Boss …" Romano whispered.

Spain grinned, "So you have … or at least I hope … I'd hate to have to punish you again. I don't think we'll be seeing each other again, Romano~ it's been fun~" he untied Romano and let the nation collapse in his arms. Romano wanted to fight out of his grasp, but was too pained, too exhausted to move. His legs were released from their ties and he was left, collapsed, on the wooden floor.

His mind blurred in and out of consciousness. His body was racked with pain. The last thing he heard before passing out was, "O-oh … oh god … Roma? Romano? Romano!"

When Romano awoke, he was lying in Spain's bed, fully dressed, bandages around his waist and back. He tried to sit up, but his body was in too much pain. As much as he hated him, he called out for Spain, "B-Boss!"

Nothing.

He finally forced himself for sit up, pain shooting through his back and backside. There was a glass of water and two Tylenol on the bedside table. He frowned, but drank them down. He pushed out of the bed and hissed in more pain as he made his way downstairs. There was no sign of Spain anywhere and the door to that awful room was shut and hopefully locked. Despite the door being closed, he ran passed it, ignoring the screaming in his body to go back and rest. He ran to the den, walking passed the broken painting and grabbed his shoes, quickly slipping them on.

Tears welled up in his eyes, willing him to get out as soon as possible. He didn't want to run into Spain. He swore he'd find him again, after he healed and beat the living hell out of him for what he did. He finished slipping on his left shoe and looked up to get off the sofa, but found his eyes locked on something on the table. His ship … the one that broke and caused the entire mess, had been glued back together. Small seams were barely seen and Romano gingerly reached out and picked it up.

The paint had been reapplied and even the little figure had been stood back up. A small piece of paper rested on the deck.

Romano grabbed in and read over the words, both anger and sadness welling up inside him.

_'Roma,_

_ Nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever excuse what happened. I couldn't even begin to explain what happened. I'm sorry._

_ España.' _

The southern half of Italy felt the rage bubble inside him as he raised the ship to smash it on the ground, but stopped. He frowned deeply, but closed his eyes. The mixture of emotions coursed through him and he bit his lip, clutching the toy ship close to his chest. His hazel orbs flew open and he took off, ignoring the pain and soreness that racked his body.

He didn't look back as he ran. Ran from the den. From the house. From Spain.

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><p><em>I can't believe I wrote such a dark fic o.o well ... I'm happy with it, I just hate doing that to poor Romano ... and you know what? I'm inspired to continue this further than a oneshot -_- I really want to make it maybe a two shot ... with a much happier ending? Idk lol anyways, I hope you enjoyed Mochikyan!<em>

_~Lady Pyrien_


	2. Chapter 2

_Due to popular demand, this story is continuing~  
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_I can not stress enough that this isn't going to be uploaded like NekoRoma or Kismet because this one is not finished. I will work on it when I have time and try and be good about it~  
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><p><em><strong>Learning the Lesson<br>**_

_**continued  
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><p>Romano bounced his foot, nervously. His brother sat beside him, snoring away while a few other nations settled in. This would be the first time in years that Italy would be hosting a world meeting. Twenty-seven years, actually. The southern half of the nation bit his lip and closed his eyes. The meeting room had been decorated specifically to his tastes.<p>

His hazel eyes drifted up to that nosy American that had walked in, "It lacks heroes in here."

"Of course, you git, Italy has far better tastes than you … though this is a nice piece." England muttered, walking up the fireplace behind the head of the table. Romano watched him carefully as he looked over the wooden antique toy ship. The hair on Romano's neck raised and he glared.

Just as he'd suspected, the Briton raised his hand to brush over the toy ship, but Romano jumped up and grabbed his wrist, "Don't fucking touch that, eyebrow bastard!" he growled angrily. His eyes widened slightly and he pulled his own hand away, gripping it tightly to his chest. His heart rate sped up and he looked away, trying to steady his breathing.

However, after the man walked away grumbling things Romano normally would have called a hit for, his eyes traced the ship and a pang of emotions shot through him. Sadness … fear … nervousness.

It had been twenty-eight long years since he'd seen Spain … since anyone had seen Spain. The man had disappeared after that night. Romano shuddered to think about the things he'd gone through.

Veneziano had pestered him nonstop when he'd come home, bruises on his cheeks and bandages wrapped tightly around him. He wondered why his brother winced at every move he made, every time he sat or had to get up, every time he went off into deep thought. Romano had clammed up, refusing to say a word. Eventually, Veneziano gave up. As the years passed, this outside wounds were healed, though a few thin, ropey scars marred his once perfect olive back. They served as Romano's reminders of what Spain did. For the lesson he was forced to learn.

The scars still hurt, even after nearly three decades. There was one on his heart. He scoffed often, at the cliché way it sounded, but he felt betrayed by everything he thought … by what Spain had did … by the way the rest of the world moved on, forgetting the personification of Spain even existed … but most of all … he felt betrayed because even after all of that … somewhere, deep down, he still loved the Spaniard despite that night.

It tore him up to even think about the feelings he held for him. They destroyed him. He felt as if he were trapped in a whirl pool, or dangling on the edge on of life and death. How could someone love another so much when that other did something so awful.

Yes, Romano had spouted his mouth one too many times. Yes, it was hurtful. Yes, he regretted it. However … he never meant those things he said. Ever.

He slipped back into his seat and wondered if this was the year Spain showed himself again. As stated earlier, no one knew what happened to the Spaniard. That night when Romano was released from the frame was the last anyone saw of him. A few questions rose here and there, especially when it was Spain's turn to host a world conference, yet no one but Lovino could answer what had happened to cause Spain to fade.

Most just assumed he'd actually died and that maybe it was because of his country's poor state and debt. Part of Romano hoped that he was dead. That he'd killed himself after realizing just what he'd done. Then there was the Romano who still loved Spain, who feared that he was dead and that he'd never get the closure he sought.

The doors opened, but once again, Romano's spike in fear and worry were met with both disappointment and relief as Turkey walked in, arguing with Greece.

His leg bounced, unknowingly annoying his little brother. Veneziano frowned and looked at his brother, "Romano … what's wrong? You seem nervous …"

Romano jumped at the sudden voice beside him and turned to Veneziano. The northern portion of Italy touched his brother's shoulder. The older brother visibly winced and jerked his body away from the hand, having grown an aversion to physical touch. Veneziano remembered his brother's aversion and drew his hand away.

"I'm fucking fine. J-just … go find your potato and leave me alone."

"Is this about big brother Spain?"

Romano tried not to wince, but he bit his lip, drawing blood as his hand subconsciously flew to the thicker of the scars on his thigh. It was hidden beneath his slacks, but he knew the permanent mark well. The way the leather crop buried itself into his skin and ripped it away, leaving behind the ropey madness on his skin.

It made no sense to him, but each scar burned when Spain was mentioned in his presence. Occasionally, it hurt, but for the most part … it was that reminder.

Veneziano, usually not one for reading the atmosphere, saw his brother's pain and had even felt it. A tingling sensation welled up on his back and legs and he frowned. Germany often told him not to think anything about it, but it bothered him. Romano could feel Veneziano's pain when his old scars flared up and vice versa, so it actually bothered the usually carefree Italian that his brother was hiding pain.

"Italia Romano-" Venni started. He was cut off by Germany rising to begin the conference. The same old rules were laid down and each member of the meeting was given their number to speak on what they needed to talk about. England, of course, was going to go first.

He announced his ideas for trading and soon Romano drifted off. There was a reason or two that he never really went to these things. The first of which was he hated how boring it was. Secondly, he was always afraid of running into the ghost of his past.

Lunch was announced an hour or two later and Roma was dragged to a hidden corner with his brother.

"Tell me what is going on. I can feel it, too!" Venni's eyes bore into Romano's.

Romano wouldn't speak. He couldn't. Veneziano would not understand. How could you tell someone that you were whipped mercilessly by your former caretaker and then … he shut his eyes, willing away the terrifying memories of begging for sex, begging to have the Spanish nation inside of him.

Honey colored eyes narrowed and North Italy stood up, "Fine. Don't tell me. But I'm your brother and I know you're in pain." he sighed, his eyes softening up once again, "Come with me, Germany and Japan after the meeting. We're all going out for gelato and I know you could use the fresh air. This is the first time you've been out of the house in six years … that's not healthy. Ve~ you'll have fun, I promise!" Veneziano said, bouncing back to his happy-go-lucky self.

South Italy frowned, wanting to just go back to his room and sleep the rest of existence away, but knew he'd never hear the end of it if he didn't at least go into the streets of Rome at least once that year, so he reluctantly agreed. Venni grinned ear to ear, but when he went to hug Roma, he found himself shoved violently to the floor.

Romano trembled and stood up, "I'll go for your stupid gelato, but that's it!" he stormed off, hoping to make the scene less embarrassing for himself. Very few people knew he feared the touch of another person and he'd hoped to keep it that way. Veneziano knew, but sometimes forgot … he'd slip up and try to hug his brother, touch his shoulder, crawl into the same bed, but it always ended the same, with him violently pushed away.

The Italian kept his distance from everyone and remained in the bathroom until four thirty, the time Germany forced everyone to wait until the next meeting to finish talking. After fixing the wrinkles in his clothes and cleaning the tears from his face, Romano made his way to the Fiat waiting in the parking lot. The cherry red car glistened in the sun, but not as beautifully as Romano's emerald green Ferrari. He bit his lip and tried not to think about the car that was locked away in the garage, or how it reminded him of those crystal clear eyes Spain had.

He leaned against the Fiat and looked up to see his brother and the other two walking out of the building. Japan looked green and quite anxious about getting in the car with Venni.

Germany obviously saw this and took the keys from Veneziano and climbed into his seat. The younger brother pouted, but sat in the front passenger side seat and began talking about the best gelato in the world and what not, while Germany adjusted the mirrors and his seat. Once he was satisfied, he ignited the car and began driving.

Romano squished himself against the window behind his brother's seat and watched as Rome's streets passed.

"Romano-san … I can't help but notice you seem a little tense. If you don't mind my asking, are you going to be okay?" Japan murmured, looking at his best friend's older brother.

The Italian looked at him and relaxed a tiny bit before nodding, "I'm fine. I just … don't like car rides much … especially with this crazy ass as the driver."

Germany pulled up to a red light, instantly getting honked at by an Italian man, angry with the 'sudden' stop.

"I will never understand Italian drivers …" Germany muttered to himself, looking through the mirror as the light turned green. He continued driving.

They finally reached the shop that Venni had pointed out and the Italian nation leaped from the seat and ran inside the shop. Germany was quick to follow and then Japan. Romano decided to wait a bit, hating the crowded streets. People touched him, people bumped against him and each touch brought back horrible memories that filled him with fear and anger.

The opening to cross without being touched came along and he walked into the shop, careful to avoid the man and his wife leaving the shop.

Ice cold air wrapped around him as he entered the creamery. People behind the counters were busy scooping the raspberry gelato into Veneziano's cup and another putting vanilla into Germany's. Romano slipped in line beside Japan and looked over the menu. As much as Venni loved gelato, he rarely brought any home, so Romano had not had any in some time.

So many flavors stuck out, but he found himself drawn to an old favorite of his: strawberry. Venni and the potato were given their gelatos and Japan went to order his. Romano picked his size and flavor and gingerly took the cup, so that his fingers wouldn't brush against the, admittedly cute, girl's hand. He slipped the money on the counter, paying for his and Japan's gelatos.

Japan blushed and quickly pulled out five Euros, "I can't let you pay for me!" he tried to hand Romano the money, but Romano glared, "I already paid. Take it as a fucking friendly gesture." he turned and sat down.

The Japanese nation nodded, but was still planning to give the money back one way or another. They ate in (mostly) silence, as Venni wouldn't shut up about how great the frozen treat was. Roma watched Germany lean over and use his napkin to wide a bit of raspberry from his brother's mouth.

He rolled his eyes and finished the strawberry treat. As he scraped the bottom up, he felt a hand on his shoulder and his eyes widened. His heart sped up and sweat began forming on his forehead. Romano's mind blanked and he ripped away from he touch, "Don't touch me!" he screamed, jumping out of the chair.

The man blindly ran from the shop and into the streets of Rome, ignoring the crazed looks he was being given. He slammed his hands against the Fiat's door, desperately trying to get in. it unlocked and he slipped into the back seat, slamming the door behind him. His face burned with embarrassment, but he didn't care as he still felt the hand on his shoulder and it seemed to burn his flesh.

The others quickly got into the car and drove silently, even Venni, through the streets, making their way to the house of Italy.

Romano's mind spun angrily as he ripped himself from his seat and tore into the house the moment the car stopped. He ran straight to his sanctuary of a room and laid down on the bed, the ghostly hand now gone.

A gentle knocking came at his door, but he refused to move, "Go away."

"Ve … brother, it's me. Let me in."

"No, now go away."

"Maybe it's best you leave him alone." Germany cut in, "What was that anyway?" he asked, dragging the younger Italian from the door.

"Sorry … Romano doesn't like being touched at all … not even me."

Germany looked slightly confused, "But, you hug him all the time."

"He hasn't let me hug him in almost thirty years …" Venni said sadly pulling out the things he would need to make dinner.

Japan looked up from his spot at the kitchen table, "Aphesphobia … I think … haphphobia … Aphenphosmphobia … either way … it sounds like Romano-san has developed this …"

"Ve~! How do you know so much, Japan?"

Japan blushed, "I just like to read, is all!" he muttered, "It's easily cured, but I worry for your brother's health … there's usually reasons one develops phobias in the first place …"

At this Veneziano's face became serious, "Romano doesn't want to talk about something, but I share his pain. We may separate beings like this, but we share one real body as Italia."

Both of his old friends looked at him intently.

"I don't know what has happened … nor do I really want to … but for something to have shaken Romano like that … we should help him get better!" the Italian's eyes lit up hopeful.

Germany and Japan exchanged glances then they nodded, "For you, Italy, we'll help your brother heal." the tall blonde muttered, wondering if the older Italian would even let them close enough.

For an hour or so, Germany sat at the computer the Italy brothers shared, searching for ways to cure the phobia that Japan brought up. After doing a bit of reading himself, he noted that the symptoms were rather similar to what Veneziano said was going on with the older brother. He also noted that it was a relatively easy phobia to cure with constant help and learning and coping.

He printed out a few different sheets of information and even something he found might be helpful with both Italies.

"Okay, Italy, listen," he sat down in front of Veneziano, "The only way for your brother to get better is to get used to touch again. I've printed out the tips page on what you can do to do that and how best to support Romano during this. First and foremost, is to not force him to do anything he's not comfortable with. Don't sneak up on him and try to ouch him and maybe announce to him that you want a hug and see where it goes from there.

"This," he held up a paper with 1-365 written on it in little boxes, "is called 'Don't Break the Chain'. Every day from now on, you must work on getting your brother to get out of the house, out of his room, try and get over his fear for at least fifteen minutes a day. If he does, you can mark off a day with an 'X'. You're going to be building a chain of 'X's' so don't break it. This one is for you." he pointed to another one with a chibi drawing of Veneziano in the corner, "I want you to start exercising more." he blushed slightly at his next words, but the look Veneziano was giving him, a look of utter horror and disgust at the notion of training, "If you can go with out breaking your chain, honestly, no cheating and just marking it off, then I'll reward you at the end of the year."

Veneziano looked at the page and frowned, "Ve … what kind of reward?"

"Thirty minutes of exercise a day and you'll find out. I'll know if you are cheating so don't even try it." he stood up, "Well … I'll come visit if you find you need any help, but I really must be getting home and I'm sure Japan does too."

At the mention of his name, Japan walked into the kitchen from where ever he'd been hiding, "Um … Germany-san … may I have a word with you?" his eyes shifted to Northern Italy, who was trying desperately to think of what his prize could possibly be and if he should even try to find out.

Germany nodded, "Ja …" he walked from the kitchen into the living room, "Germany-san, while you were doing research … I did a bit of thinking myself … and I feel just awful for prying into his personal life … but, how many people were close with Romano-san?"

The blonde man thought for a moment, "Only a few, I guess … his grandfather, brother, Spain and Belgium, perhaps … I also think he's friends with that quiet man."

"Right … Italy-kun said Romano-san had been acting weird for nearly thirty years … if I'm correct, wasn't it about thirty years ago that-"

"Spain vanished …" Germany finished, his brows knitting together in a thoughtful, yet worried expression.

"Hai … I don't want to make assumptions of things I know very little about … but do you supposed that maybe … Romano-san may have something to do with his disappearance?"

Germany didn't answer right away, merely thought, "It is possible … but let's focus on helping Italy with his little problem and then we'll focus on finding out what happened to Spain."

Japan nodded, still upset he was prying into private matters. They bid farewell to Italy, Germany letting him know that he would be back in a week or two to check out progress.

Italy bit his lip and nodded, sitting down. Once the doors were shut, he looked up towards the stairs. He didn't say anything … but he had over heard his friends talking. Had his brother really done something to big brother Spain?

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><p><em>There~ chapter two of LTL <em>

_Once again, this won't really be updated often, but I have my own 'Don't Break the Chain' for this, so I'm dead set on finishing it.  
><em>

_~Lady Pyrien  
><em>


	3. Chapter 3

_I was finally motivated to finish this chapter~ There's no excuse for how late it is, except the fact I've been distracted with work and still trying to catch up with a few oneshots I need to write. Pardon any mistakes, it's five thirty, i've yet to have any sleep and I ended up having to finish this chapter in the documents uploader because when my pc crashed, all my documents were in odt. format and won't open in Micro word processor. After this chapter, things should be easier because chapter four will be written all in micro word o.o anyways~ without further ado, chapter four ... all drama filled for your enjoyment XD_

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><p><em><strong>Learning The Lesson<strong>_

**Chapter Three: Fears Realized**

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><p>Romano sat on the bed, quietly counting the tomatoes printed onto his sheets. Thirty-four … thirty-five … thirty-six … thirty-se- he was interrupted by a knocking at the door.<p>

"Go away." he whispered to himself. The knocking continued and he closed his eyes. He'd made a fool of himself because of his stupid aversion and there was nothing he could do to gain back the pride he'd lost earlier that day … if he even had any to begin with.

The door ceased its noises for a few moments, but started up again quickly. He rolled over to face the door, "Go away!" he said much louder.

"Nope~ not until you let me in!" Veneziano's voice drifted in, followed by the loud knocking. Romano stared at the door for sometime before rolling out of the bed and up to the door. He swung it open and saw his brother standing at the door with a bunch of papers in his arms.

"Thank you!" he smiled, walking into the room, throwing the paper down onto the bed, "It's time I helped you get over your halfing-phobia …" he muttered, looking for a certain page.

"Halfing-what now?" Romano growled, walking a bit closer to his brother.

Veneziano grabbed a page and held it out to his brother, "This thing! It's the fear of being touched! I'm going to help you get over it … so … Roma … can I hug you?" he brother set down the page and opened his arms wide to let his brother know he wanted a hug.

Romano glared and shook his head, his heart racing at the mere thought of another touching his skin, "I don't know what you're thinking, barging in here and throwing this shit all over my bed, but I don't have whatever-the-fuck-o-phobia. I just hate people."

The younger of the two frowned, "You used to let me hug you all the time … we shared a bed … you'd fix my shirt if it wasn't buttoned right … now you won't do any of that and you freak out when someone touches you. You have this fear! And I'm here to help you get over it!" he held out his hand, "Just touch my hand … that's all I'm asking of you today is to shake hands with me."

A pregnant silence filled the room as Romano stared down at the extended hand. He took a deep breath and carefully reached out to grab his brother's hand. Soft flesh touched his and his heart sped up. Sweat formed on his brow and breathing became difficult. Veneziano smiled, "Thank you~!" he let go, "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Don't patronize me." Romano hissed, crossing his arms. He watched as Veneziano walked over to a page and grabbed a pen to mark off a huge 'X' over the square labeled 1.

"What's that?"

"You're Chain. Every day you work on learning to touch again, you get to mark an 'X' on that day~! Ve … all you have to do is not break the chain! Germany told me he found it on the internet and it might help you get better."

Romano looked at the paper in disgust. He didn't need help … did he? He couldn't even shake hands with his brother for a few seconds without wanting to curl into a ball and die.

Veneziano grabbed the page and taped it up above Romano's lamp, "There. Now you'll see it everyday and see your chain grow."

He grabbed another page and smiled, "I left those for you." the Italian smiled, turning to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" Romano asked.

Veneziano smiled, "I'm going for a run …" he left. Romano stared in confusion at the door his brother had left. Since when did the younger of the two ever exercise or run when the potato wasn't screaming at him?

He shrugged it off and walked to his bed to look over the pages. Some were tips and self help techniques, some were people writing to the rest of the world how they feel and all that about having a fear of being touched.

Every word Romano read made him realize just how badly he had it. His eyes drifted to the little calender thing and he frowned. Maybe it was time he started healing.

A few weeks passed and the potato came to visit. Romano noted his page had two separate chains, since one day he'd been too … shaken … to do anything except hold himself up in his room all day. He felt ashamed when he walked passed Veneziano's chain in the kitchen and saw every day had an 'X'.

Germany smiled, looking at both pages, "This is wonderful!" he set them down, "I'm so proud of the both of you!" Romano rolled his eyes, sipping his tomato juice. He was getting real sick and tired of every one around him treating him like a child.

His stupid brother smiled and flung his arms around Germany, 've-ing'. The sight made Romano want to puke all over the floor. The man set his empty glass down in the sink and pushed off the counter to go to his room, however he stopped when Germany extended his hand, "Can I shake your hand in congratulations for making it this far?"

Romano glared, "Fuck no. Even if I didn't have an aversion to touch, I still wouldn't touch you."

"But … Romano … you haven't gotten you 'X' for today!" Veneziano pouted.

"Neither have you!"

"I don't go out until six …" he countered.

Romano continued glaring at his brother and at Germany, but slowly reached out to take the man's hand in his own, "Th-this isn't s-some sort of peace anything, b-bastard …" he took deep, calming breaths as Germany shook his hand lightly, gently. They parted and Romano felt light headed and dizzy … he'd done it! He'd touched someone other than his brother! Even if it was a potato sucker.

He felt proud of himself as he marked the fourth 'X' in a row on his new chain. The Italian sat down at the table to watch Veneziano get ready for his evening run. Soon, he was out the door.

The southern portion of Italy walked to the fridge and sighed. After opening it five times in a row, his annoyance growing each time he didn't find his tomatoes, the Italian man decided he'd just have to run down to the market himself and grab a few.

He looked at his chain and nodded. He'd been doing better than good. He could do this! Romano slipped on his shoes and grabbed his wallet and walked outside. The sun was beating down, despite the partial cloud cover. He just locked the door and took a deep breath before heading down the semi crowded streets.

Romano was quick into the store, trying to avoid the home going crowds. He aimlessly wandered the almost empty aisles as he looked for anything they might need other than tomatoes. Finally, he had what he needed and took it up to the register. The woman rung them up and smiled, "Rough day?" she asked.

"You have no idea." Romano grinned, counting the money to the counter. She picked it up and held out her hand with his change. He bit his lips lightly and let her set the money in his hand. Her fingertips brushed his skin and he forced himself not to drop everything right there and run away.

The Italian man thanked her and grabbed his two bags to leave.

"Have a nice day!" she called out to him. He just nodded and slipping back into the streets of Rome. However, the streets were a bit busier than before and people bumped passed each other just trying to get home to their families. Romano pressed himself as close to the buildings as possible and pushed passed them, each brush against him, each touch was sending his mind into a blank need to run and hide.

Soon, Romano found himself walking a secluded path through the park, his groceries clutched tightly to his chest. His heart raced and he felt as if the world was going to cave in around him any moment. He finally found himself leaning against the trees in the woods near the park. He let his feet lead him as he walked around aimlessly through the area.

Birds tweeted and filled him with a sense of peace, the scares from earlier long forgotten. Romano looked at his watch and sighed, knowing his brother was home now and was probably worried about him.

Just as the Italian had decided to turn around go back, he stumbled across a small run down cottage. The windows were covered in layers of dust and dirt and the paint was long since fading. He found it odd that the thing even existed. Romano walked around the 'front' yard and stepped onto the porch, letting the wood creak beneath his feet.

It seemed no one lived in the small cottage. His fingers brushed over the door and he let out a sigh, wondering what was inside. He tried turning the handle, but it was locked tight.

The man growled and set his bags down to walk around to the back. His eyes widened as he found himself in Heaven. Tomatoes filled the entire 'back' yard. Some were perfectly ripe and juicy while others were on their way. Romano let his fingers glide over the flesh of the big fruit and his mouth watered at the thought of sinking his teeth into the tomato. His eyes turned and spotted the owner of the tomato garden.

It seemed to be a young man. His sun hat flopped around his head and shoulders as he dug into the soil to dig up one of the tomato plants to put it in the big ceramic pot.

Romano plucked the big tomato from the vine and glared forward, "Oi! I'm taking one of these. I'll leave some payment on the porch." he muttered. The man froze, letting his hands fall still in the soil.

"Okay." the man muttered. Romano couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity as he took a few steps back and set a few Euros on the back steps. He sat down and watched the man as he continued his work. He silently waited as the man finished potting the tomato plant. The man stood up and turned around to walk up to his home, however hazel met emerald and the world slowed to a crawl.

Romano felt his insides twist with fear and longing. How long had the world searched for the very man he sat in front of?

"S-Spain?" he felt the name roll of his tongue and his heart twisted as each one of his scars burned. He yelped in pain and clutched the one on his leg tightly as it burned with the memories.

Spain frowned quickly, "I thought you had left!"

The Italian forced himself up and said nothing as he began running toward the front. However, Romano's foot got caught in a small hole and he fell forward, twisting his ankle. He screamed out in pain and held the joint in his hands. Spain was at his side in an instant, reaching for his leg, but the Italian felt his heart race, "Don't touch me!" he screeched, pulling his leg away, yelping as pain shot up his leg again.

"Roma ... please, just let me look at it." Spain muttered, his voice soft and calm, yet slightly firm.

Romano kicked at Spain's hands with his uninjured leg, "Get the fuck away from me!"

Spain reached forward again to grab Romano's shoulders in hopes that it would calm him down. Of course, he knew that if he ever saw Romano again, he would get a reaction like this. He still didn't know exactly what he'd done to the man, but from what he'd discovered upon waking up, it had not been pretty and he was sure Romano was still suffering. He had never intended for them to ever meet again. Now that he thought about it, maybe hiding out in the middle of no where Rome was a bad idea ... but what's done is done, he supposed.

"Don't hit me!" Romano squeaked, cowering under his arms. His body shook violently in fear.

The Spaniard pulled back, "I ... I wasn't going to hit you ..." he whispered. What had he done? "Roma, calm down, please. I'm not going to hurt you. Just let me help you inside ... I'll just check your ankle and then you can go ... you'll never have to see me again ... I'll go somewhere else ..." he explained slowly.

Romano looked at him, "Leave me alone."

"Roma-"

"Boss!" Romano quickly added, "I'm sorry!" He yelped out.

"Fratello!" Romano looked over and saw Veneziano running up, sweat covered his forehead, "I found you!" his honey eyes noticed the man kneeling beside Romano and his eyes widened, "Big Brother Spain?" he smiled brightly and tackled Spain in a huge hug, "Romano found you! I'm so glad! Everyone was so worried, you know? Ve~ where have you been?"

Romano reached out in desperation and pulled at Venni's shirt, pulling him from Spain, "G-get away from him!"

Veneziano just grinned and snuggled his face into his brother's chest, "Ve~ I missed hugging you, fratello~" Romano frowned, pushing Veneziano away, "Shut up! Help me up. We're leaving." he held up his hands, which Venni took and pulled his brother up. Romano yelped in pain and fell over.

Spain caught him and averted his gaze. "Let me go! Don't touch me!" Romano pushed at him, beginning to freak out.

Veneziano sighed, "Don't worry about it, Big Brother Spain ... Romano hasn't let anyone touch him for nearly thirty years now. Not even me! So don't take it personally." Romano felt pathetic, lying on the ground, his brother talking about him as if he wasn't there, letting the younger Italian tell Spain about his phobia ... that Spain caused.

Venni didn't notice the flash of pain that shot through Spain's eyes as he knelt to the ground, "Venni, would you do me a favor and call a cab or something. I'll handle Roma."

The younger Italian nodded and walked off to go find a ride for his brother, however Romano reached out for Venni, "Don't leave me alone with him!"

Spain instantly felt his heart crumble. He had no idea Romano had been affected so heavily. His fear be damned, he pulled Romano into his arms, "I'm so sorry ... dios, I've never been so sorry about anything in my life ... I don't have a single memory of what happened that night, but I know whatever I did ... it had to be awful ...

"Seeing you lying there in sweat, blood and tears ... bruises, cuts ... your blood on my hands ... I wanted to die." he sobbed, "I never wanted to hurt you, Roma, I love you! I fixed your ship ... I don't know if you saw ..."

Romano felt his insides twisting all over the place with his confusion. Spain seemed sincere about his apology, but the memories, the scars, the lesson ... it was all burned into his head. He shoved Spain away and shivered.

"Romano? Spain?" Romano would never admit it out loud, but he'd never been so glad to see Germany in all his life, "Italy called me ..." The blonde man walked up, giving Spain an odd look, seeing his red rimmed eyes and tears streaked cheeks.

"Just pick me up bastard ... I want to go home." Germany complied and picked up Romano to carry him to the red fiat he'd brought near the park.

Romano refused to look at Spain as he allowed Germany to carry him off. Each one of his scars still burned.

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><p><em>~Lady Pyrien<em>


	4. Chapter 4

_Guess what I finally did? You guessed it! I finished this fic! I finished it good, too! I hope -_- I had to actually rewrite this one because the first draft was just awful. .. it was terrible and was going no where o.O_

_Anyway, Mochikyan! This has been a great story I got to work on! It was much different from what I usually write, which tends to be fluffy blah! I hope you all enjoy and I'm sorry if they seem a little out of character in this chapter -_- _

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><p><em><span>Learing the Lesson<span>  
><em>

**Chapter Four: Reminder**_  
><em>

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><p>Spain leaned against his door, feeling his heart twisting in pain. He twisted his fingers into a hard fist. It was all he could do to not go hunt down Romano and beg for forgiveness. He'd remembered all too clearly, waking up from a dark haze to find Romano lying on the floor as he had.<p>

Those images were the haunt of his every waking nightmare. Sometimes, he even heard whispers in his head, the voice of Romano begging and pleading and screaming out in pain. It was always way too much. He'd hoped that with him disappearing, the younger man would go on living a better life. He would not have to be reminded of whatever horrors took place in that hidden room.

Spain walked to the bathroom, his hands shaking badly. He never, ever thought he'd run into Romano here of all places. There were a million places Romano hated to go, natural forest like areas, filled with woodland creatures and the possibility of bears or wolves was just one place he wouldn't go.

Green eyes looked up into their reflection, but what stared back was not himself, or at least not the him he'd grown used to looking at.

Acid green eyes blinked. The Spain he looked at was still him. He still moved the way Spain did, but he just … it wasn't the same.

"What the?" he reached out and ran a hand over the reflection, wondering if his eyes had really always been dark sick color.

_"Miss me?"_ he heard himself say.

Confusion reigned free in his mind as he fought to figure out what the hell was going on, "What?"

_"Oh, you poor thing. You've been hurt again by that little brat. I thought for sure I'd taught him to bow down to you and respect you, but I guess I was wrong."_

"What the hell?" Spain groaned, clutching his head.

A dark laughter filled the air around him,_ "I forgot you wouldn't remember what happened that wonderful night when I tamed that beast."_ Spain felt a shiver run down his spine. Was this voice … was he the one who hurt his precious Romano?

_"Very good, Spain! Of course I am~ aren't you glad? He knows better than to insult you now~ all you really have to do is find him and make him understand his place in the world. Shall I show you what wonders befell the man while you were unconscious? I think I should! Oh, you'll enjoy this!"_

Suddenly, Spain found himself standing in front of Romano, who was panting, tears running down his face. Spain raised his arm and brought the crop down against the Italian's back. Romano screamed out.

_'NO!'_ Spain yelped, trying to stop himself from hitting Romano again.

_'You can't stop it. It will continue on. This is just a memory._' His darker voice echoed in his head.

_"Are you done?"_ Romano whispered, tensing up really quickly.

_"Ahahaha … Romano … do you know what I did to men like you on my ship when they back talked or smarted off? Do you know what I did to the crew members who thought they could stand up to me? Do you?"_ Spain felt his voice say. He couldn't stop it, he couldn't scream out an apology. He was forced to watch Romano's face twist in horrific realization when this past Spain threatened him with sharks and rape.

He then watched further, disgusted with himself as he had sex with Romano. It didn't seem unwanted, but it still felt so wrong. It felt wrong to finally have him in such a terrible way.

Then the world around him began to fade as the memories slipped away.

_"That wasn't all. You also slapped the hell out of him for punching you~ that brat has a very strong punch."_

"Gah! Go away!" Spain yelled, pushing himself off the floor. He ran through the house and grabbed an old phone from the wall and with shaky fingers he dialed the Italy house. He couldn't think straight, but for now, at least, the voice had faded away. He couldn't hear him or feel him there.

_"Um, hello! Venni speaking!"_

"V-Veneziano?" Spain whispered, "I-is Romano okay?" he silently cursed himself for his shaky voice, but he was nervous.

Silence took a good portion of the next ten minutes or so as Veneziano muttered a few things, _"He's doing fine. His ankle is swelled up like a balloon, but he said the pain reliever kicked in and it doesn't hurt! I haven't talked to you in ages big brother Spain! How are you?"_

Not really wanting to stay on the phone for much longer, Spain smiled softly, "I've been better Veneziano … do you think … it's okay if I come over for a few minutes? I haven't spoken to either of you in so lo-"

_"Of course! Anytime! I think I'll make some pasta!_" he hung up the phone, leaving Spain sitting on the device, listening to a dial tone.

He slowly hung up the phone. If the memories he saw were real… a simple apology would never do.

Spain slowly changed from his dirty work clothes and then walked to the Italy residence. His heart raced quickly as he approached the small home. He wanted to turn and run. The entire walk over, the dark spots in his memory were filling up quickly with everything that had been missing. All the people he'd killed, all the things he'd done and worst of all, his breaking point. He'd been forced to remember just why he hated England in the first place.

He felt the hatred boiling over some more, but he couldn't find himself caring to hunt down the man as much as he wanted to find Romano.

Raising his hand to the door, he made to knock on the wood, but it flew open, revealing a bright eyed Italian with a spoon in his hand.

"Oh … hi … um … is it alright if I go see Romano?" he asked quietly to Italy.

Veneziano hugged Spain tightly, "I've missed you! I think Romano has, too! So um… he's upstairs in his room watching TV. I'll bring the pasta up when it's done~"

Spain nodded and chewed his lip. He didn't want to face Romano, not after seeing what he … no, _that darker Spai_n had made him do to Romano. Thirty years and Romano was still suffering for it. It was terrible.

Yet, he had to do this. He had to.

He slowly made his way up the stairs and finally stood in front of Romano's door. The TV blared in some Italian cartoon show Romano probably just had playing randomly. He took a deep breath and slowly opened the door.

The Italian was leaned against his pillows, clutching one knee to his chest, since the other was propped up on more pillows. His cheeks were stained with tears. It was obvious he wasn't paying any attention to what was on the TV, but rather, he was busy looking out the window.

Spain took a final deep, steadying breath, before sitting down on the edge of the bed. Romano looked at him. His eyes seemed slightly fearful, but for the most part, he didn't react at all.

"Veneziano told me you were coming over."

The Spaniard nodded, "Roma …"

There was a pause of silence. Romano turned his head away, his eyes full of thought. He twisted his fingers together and wrung them and generally fidgeted around while they sat there.

Spain finally stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed and knelt down to the floor, his head bowed to Romano, "Up until today … I could not remember a moment of what happened all those years ago … but … after you left, I remembered … I remembered everything … and like I said before, Roma, my sweet little Italian … Nothing, but nothing, can forgive what I did … I know now just how badly my stupidity hurt you. I lost control and something darker within me came out and took over. I never want to hurt you or anyone else again. I'm so sorry … I've never been more sorry about anything in my entire life and if there was anything I would do if I could would be to go back and just take you into my arms and apologize for whatever made you so mad that night and just sit in front of the fire and read stories. I don't deserve your forgiveness, nor do I deserve to live. I'm giving you permission over my life, Roma … do with me as you please. All I ask is that in the end, you feel better."

He continued staring at the floor, letting the tears of his pain and guilt fall to the floor. Hopefully Romano would make everything quick and painless and just cut him to pieces.

What felt like an eternity passed, but no one said anything. Finally, the man sitting on the bed shifted his weight and he placed both of his feet on the floor before Spain.

"I hate you." Romano whispered, "I hate you, you stupid bastard. That's all you are! A stupid idiot! Look at you … pathetic. You won't even look at me when I speak to you."

Spain instantly looked up into Romano's hazel eyes. Yet … they weren't filled with hatred, nor contempt … they held cautiousness.

"I'm cursing you out, asshole … what do you have to say? Are you going to hit me? Punish me?"

"Never!" Spain felt the guilt rise up again, "I will never raise my hand to you again! I should never have done it in the first place … that man that hurt you … that was a different me. He was someone from a different time and place … where things like that may not have been right, but it was just how things were done. I remember everything I've ever done and Roma, it's not pretty, but I know better now ... I can control that part of me."

Romano just tilted his head with a slight glare and he crossed his arms, "Do you remember how you told me you loved me then? Why is it someone who claimed to love me so much hated me at the same time?"

"I never hated you … everything you did was so cute … every word made me happy because you spoke them to me and me alone … even when the things you said were hurtful, I knew you didn't mean them! I … I do love you, even still … it tears my heart out to know something like that happened … and my hands were the ones doing it. I don't know what happened that night, Roma, but it will never happen again. I swear on my life."

More silence.

"You're stupid. Everything is your entire fault. I hate you, bastard. You should die. I should kill you." He continued spewing forth very hurtful things.

Spain, however, could only fight back laughter. He deserved every word, but he was overjoyed to hear Romano saying such … Romano-ish things to him again. He let loose the laughter, "I'm so sorry, Roma … but you're just too cute when you call me bastard~"

The laughter was cut short when he was knocked back against the wall with a slightly heavy pressure weighing him down.

He was shocked, but he looked down at the man lying in his lap, arms tightly wrapped around his neck.

Carefully, he placed a hand on Romano's back and began rubbing softly, "You're ankle won't get any better if you don't keep it propped up."

"Don't care!" Romano growled, burying his face into Spain's shoulder and neck area, "I-I … I really fucking missed you, okay! I really do hate you for what you did to me that night … but … th-that wasn't you! That wasn't the real you … not the you th-that I … l-love …" Romano groaned at his own gushy words. His face was red, "I was f-fucking testing you … you snapped when I called you bad names like that and called you stupid …" Romano sat up in Spain's lap, "But everyone has bad days, asshole … earlier that day I'd been told that my economy was turning to shit. I was in a terrible mood and I was h-hoping th-that you would …" his face lit up red and he turned away, "that I … would … finally confess and then you could have cheered me up … but …" he said no more.

"Roma …"

"I'm not finished!" Romano snapped, turning his attention to Spain, "I hate you for what you did, but … I forgive you … I know that … I was also way out of line that night and … it wasn't your fault … we can't change what happened, but we can move on and learn from it. I promise to try not to be a fucking asshole to you all the time if you promise to never, ever leave me."

Spain sat shocked. A smile made its way onto his lips and he laughed lightly, "I promise. It's so unusual my little tomato~ you sound all mature and grown up!" he raised his hand to Romano's face. Romano flinched, much to Spain's dismay, but the man did close his eyes and lean into the touch.

"I'm still not used to being touched or touching …" he whispered, "But I'm trying, damnit, so don't say a fucking word …"

"It's okay." Spain whispered back. Romano rested back down against his chest and let his eyes slip closed. Spain began humming softly, "I am so glad you've forgiven me, Roma. I … I really do love you. I always have."

"Mmhm ..." Romano mumbled, "I'm not an overly gushy guy, so yeah, but … I love you … too …" Romano muttered, letting his eyes open again, "It was … one of the reasons I was so confused then … I loved you and you … and then after I tried to force myself to hate you … I really fucking did … but every day, I wanted you to come out of nowhere, smiling like you usually do with a big, juicy tomato … Don't ever fucking leave me again!"

"Never." Spain kissed his cheek a few times before Romano turned his head slightly catching Spain's lips with his own. He still felt a bit wary about trusting the man so soon, but … he knew things were better now. He knew he could trust him. He also knew things were going to be better from then on.

And they were. Romano rarely cursed Spain out anymore. He tried to be more understanding as a new found lover. Spain also kept all of his promises. He never once yelled at Romano, nor did he say anything remotely hurtful. Romano still had occasional relapses on his phobia and would lock himself in a room or closet for hours, not wanting anyone to touch him, but Spain remained by his side, softly speaking to him through the door. He would not let anyone but Spain or his brother touch him, either. It wasn't much progress, but it was still a lot better than it had been before.

The past remained a great reminder of their mistakes and neither forgot, but both learned to live with it because they were stronger for it. Romano never held it above Spain's head, knowing that every time they crawled into bed with each other, Spain would see the scars across his body. He always spoke calmly at times like that, convincing Spain that it was okay, that he had forgiven him.

It was a lesson that neither man would ever forget.

* * *

><p><em>Glad I can mark this as finished and know that I at least completed it -_- It's been a good run, but now you guys know why I try and finish everything before I post the first chapter of it XD It either doesn't get finished or takes forever! Also, I know the editing is crap on this -_- <em>

_~Lady Pyrien, who hopefully can stop being so lazy and finish I Dare You as well XD _


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